Bernard had to hide his grin. No wonder Ellie would steal and fight for her family. They protected her with an equal ferocity. He tipped the brim of his bowler. “I’m Detective Bernard Taylor. Pleased to meet you.”
Theo still scowled at him, but she lowered her gun and thrust out a hand. He accepted, and she gripped tight. “And you’re not planning on hauling her off the moment this is over?”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Heavens above, Theo, would I be bothering him if I thought the gent was like the rest of the mutton shunters?”
Theo cast her a wary glance. “With you, I’m never quite sure.” Theo let go of his hand, clearly sated by her brief inquisition. Now both women were scowling. Definitely sisters.
The redheaded man slunk past them and offered a palm. “Silas Kylock, pleased to make your acquaintance. Wish it were under better circumstances.”
Bernard shook hands with him as well, a frown creasing his forehead as Silas’ words sank in. He glanced at the kitchen—one person Ellie had mentioned wasn’t here. And this late, he doubted they’d let their ill mother wander through town. His gaze landed on Ellie, who brimmed with the same fear he’d seen in the church.
“The Butcher took your mother,” Bernard said, the foregone conclusion leaving his lips.
Silas let out a low whistle. “I see they don’t just make anyone detective.”
Ellie took a step closer to him, and he caught the way her fingers extended and tightened into balled fists again, as if she wanted to reach out. He longed to take her in his arms again until the troubled look disappeared from her eyes, and to kiss those warm lips. He wanted to sink into abandon, far away from this nightmare. He might not be able to cross the distance right now, but he could do something.
“When did she go missing?” Bernard asked, launching into detective mode. Though truly, sometimes he felt as if he never left it.
“When I came home this morning, she wasn’t here,” Ellie murmured, guilt flickering in her gaze when their eyes locked. He caught Theo’s penetrating stare on him as well, the woman presenting as formidable a front as her sister. “I’ve scoured around town, but when I checked the Market of the Macabre…well, the Butcher left a clear message for me by way of the Shadow Dealer.”
The haunted look in her eyes confirmed what Ellie had stumbled onto. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of all the horrors she’d endured today. He could imagine the rising panic as she searched for her mother to no avail. Bernard paced around the kitchen, scanning the floor as he went. His gaze snagged on the rumpled carpeting, one small spot darker than the rest.
A faint footprint traced into the carpet in a muddy outline.
One he recognized.
Bernard swept back out through the open door and into the hallway. The shuffle of footsteps came from behind as the others followed him, but his mind whirred as he tried to fit the gears in place.
There. And there. He found a few more of the muddy tread that had dried at this point. The same one he’d seen outside the church, a wet imprint then.
“Follow the rats,” Bernard murmured out loud, crouching to examine one of the prints. Ellie dropped down beside him, her fingertips tracing the edges. She glanced up to meet him, her eyes questioning.
Of course. He’d been wasting all this time examining the docks, when the answer had been clear all along. “The Butcher of Broad Street is in the sewers.”
Ellie’s jaw dropped. “He’s dragging the victims from the sewers to drop them in the public spots.”
Bernard shook his head. “I knew he’d need somewhere private to perform that sort of botched surgery. Chances are, that’s where he’s brought your mother.”
“The Shadow Dealer all but told us directly,” Ellie murmured, a hint of sadness tinging her voice. “The Market of the Macabre’s moved after that sort of grisly murder. The business of information can be risky, and they prefer to protect their own.”
Theo’s shadow fell over them. “How long will it take to comb London’s sewers though?” The terseness in her voice betrayed her worry.
“I should be able to help condense the scope,” Bernard said, pushing up from his squat. He offered a hand to Ellie, who accepted with a tentative grin. The touch between them was enough. As their eyes locked, illuminating electricity coursed through him. Last night had solidified the stirrings he’d felt, making it clear to him that he wanted Ellie Whitfield in his life. He squeezed her hand before letting go, and the grateful look in her eyes caused his heart to thump a little harder.
“And I know the sewers well,” Ellie responded. “Especially the ones around here. It helps to familiarize yourself with every possible escape route when you’re indulging in certain enterprises.” The way she danced around the words with a glint in her eyes elicited a grin from him. Even in the wake of everything she’d faced today, the bricky woman continued to exude a bravery he couldn’t help but admire.
Silas crooked his head in the direction of the open apartment door, and they all followed him inside, one by one. Theo brought the door closed shut behind them.
Bernard strode over to the small table on the opposite side of the room from the kitchen. The apartment couldn’t be much bigger than his parlor room, but he soaked in the sights of a well-lived in and well-loved abode. Jars of tea were stashed on one side of the kitchen, a worn book with creases in the side and the pages nearly falling out lay on the table and all manner of cloaks and coats hung on the far wall.
He tugged out the map he’d brought with him of all the marked spots of the victims. If the Butcher dragged them from the sewers, he wouldn’t be traveling too far from his origin. Bernard skimmed over the marks he’d made, traveling his pointer finger from one to the next. Most concentrated around the same locus, confirming his initial thought.
“I’m well familiar with those tunnels,” Ellie said, her palms spread on the surface of the table as she hunched beside him, scanning the map.
“What about using the mechanical hound to narrow the scope?” Silas asked, leaning against the back wall again.
Theo glanced to him and nodded. “We can process Mama’s scent, and once we get down in the sewers, we can follow the clockwork creature through the tunnels.”
Ellie cast him a glance. “He’s a tinker and she’s a technomancer,” she explained before switching her focus to her sister. “And you don’t think with all the clomping of the device you’ll notify the killer of your presence far before you come close? He could slit Mother’s throat before we ever stumble on where he’s holed himself away.”
A frown creased Theo’s brow. “What do you suggest?”
Ellie’s gaze burned, and Bernard’s gut tightened at the flicker there, one that appeared at the slightest hint of trouble. This woman didn’t hide from danger—instead, she charged in headfirst.
“Not without me,” was all he said.
The corner of her mouth lifted. In the span of a mere week, he already understood this woman far better than friends and comrades he’d known for years.
“No,” Theo responded, crossing her arms over her chest as she glowered at her younger sister. Clearly, the look never had any effect, as Ellie offered a toothy grin back.
“Care to let me in on what we’re arguing about?” Silas asked.
“My beloved sister plans on dangling herself as bait for the killer to draw the attention away from Mother.” Theo’s words turned to acid, the fear tangible there.
“Be truthful, Theodosia,” Ellie said, a light teasing note in her voice. “You can’t think of a better solution, and that utterly vexes you.”
Bernard reached out to place a hand on Ellie’s shoulder. She glanced at him, the bravado melting away for a second as he looked into those chocolate eyes. Of course, she was terrified. Yet the woman would head out and face the Butcher of Broad Street regardless.
“She won’t be alone,” he responded, meeting Theo’s gaze. “I grew up stealing to survive, I served in the naval guard, and I’ve worked as a detec
tive for years to put away serial killers like this one. Trust me when I tell you I won’t let an ounce of harm befall your sister.”
Theo’s sharp gaze focused on where his palm rested on Ellie’s shoulders. “I don’t believe you’ll let her get hurt. However, my dear sister seems to vault into trouble headfirst, and when it doesn’t find her fast enough, she seeks it out.”
“I know I’m a stranger and you have no reason to trust me,” he said, squeezing Ellie’s shoulder. To his surprise, she reached up and placed a hand over the one resting there. “But I promise you, I’ll keep her safe.”
Theo sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll hold you to that, detective.”
The weight of the promise twisted inside him and settled deep in his gut. He rarely made those sorts of claims, as he’d seen far too often how life could take a bitter turn. However, he refused to let the brilliant, beautiful light of Ellie Whitfield be snuffed. He didn’t care what he needed to sacrifice to keep her alive.
“Now that the two of you are finished making dramatic proclamations, why don’t we sit down and hatch the rest of our plan?” Ellie interrupted, patting his hand on her shoulder. “We don’t have a second of moonlight to waste.”
Chapter Thirteen
Nothing prepared one for a jaunt through the sewers.
London’s vast network splayed out beneath the city in an inky sprawl of bricks and channels, an unparalleled feat of construction. And yet no matter how many times Ellie skulked through those dark tunnels, the splash of the rats that scurried through, the drip-drip-drip of the water from the ceilings into the pools beneath and the clammy chill rampant through the place always summoned her fear.
She’d tugged on her tallest pair of boots and packed as many knives as she could fit on her person. While Bernard, Theo and Silas carried pistols, she’d always felt surer with a blade in hand. Their skilamalink army of four drew stares as they strode through the streets with a quiet signifying the gravity of their task. Silas carried his clockwork bloodhound tucked under his arm, the eyes blank. Her sister would be powering it on using her technomancy the moment they parted ways.
The moon formed a sharp slice in the sky tonight, and its careful beams followed suit, carving their way through shadows and stone. Ellie’s veins buzzed in a draught of anticipation and fear so well-mixed that she’d never be able to separate them. The potential outcomes terrified her, but she was tired, so tired of feeling the probing stare on her as she crept through a night she’d once owned.
No matter her fate, tonight she’d face the Butcher of Broad Street.
One of the entrances to the sewers stood out at the end of the street, and her mouth dried at the sight. The black pit gaped at her, beckoning them forward. Ellie tightened her grip on the dagger she carried in her right hand. Bernard strode close to her, matching her pace without coming across too obvious. He’d strained at the seams when they’d mentioned what had happened to Mother, and she’d held back her own urge to reach out and succumb to the comfort his embrace offered.
If she survived tonight, the emerging feelings were something she would need to sort through in the future. Somehow, their threads had knotted together faster than she’d anticipated in such a short time.
“We’ll see where your creation takes you and head in the opposite direction,” Ellie said, cutting through the silence. If her mind wandered any further, the looming fears might smother her.
Theo reached over and squeezed her hand. “We’ll find Mama.” Her sister’s eyes shone with the warning she bit back by some miracle. Theo might scold her more than their own mother, but Ellie always understood how her sister showed care. She’d never forgotten who’d arrived to save her from Blair’s basement.
Ellie squeezed Theo’s hand before pulling away to walk a little faster to the entrance. While the idea of coming face to face with the Butcher of Broad Street didn’t thrill her, she was far too ready to find Eleanor Whitfield. The mottled carcass of the Shadow Dealer flashed in her mind, melding with the visual of the dissected rat the killer had sent. Bile scalded her throat, but she walked faster.
The moment they neared the entrance, the stale, sepulchral scent filtered her way. She plunged into the darkness first and clicked the lever on the hangman’s orb Silas had brought along for light. Having a tinker in the family was valuable. The faint spidery beams cut through the slate entrance, gliding over the steps that were covered in the faint sheen of scum and moisture. Ellie didn’t hesitate, descending the stairs with a careful tread. She knew how slippery these steps could be.
Somehow, Bernard managed to keep pace with her again, the man’s persistence something rare.
“Don’t think you’ll be leaving me behind to play the martyr,” he murmured. “I have a promise to uphold.”
Her throat tightened at the warmth in his words and in his darkened gaze. She couldn’t forget the sweet things he’d said to her in their time together if she tried. Those words and actions had imprinted on her in a way little else had. If she didn’t need to steal to survive…well, she couldn’t let her mind wander that way. Not now.
“Fool move on your part,” Ellie cracked back, forcing her voice to remain steady. “If the Scarlet Crone’s prediction holds truth, I’m not long for this realm.”
Bernard silenced, as did she, the fears permeating past her skin like the clammy air that surrounded them. At the bottom of the steps, she stopped and listened.
The plunk of heavy drops hitting the pools of water echoed through the channels, and when she strained, the skitter of rats and whatever else crawled down here echoed, but she didn’t catch the shuffle of steps or the hiss of any breath apart from their own.
Theo and Silas came to a halt at the bottom of the steps behind them. Silas set his clockwork pup on the ground, the thing no bigger than a small dog and probably tinier than some of the massive rats crawling around down here. When those metal feet rested on the stone, her sister stepped to the fore.
Theo closed her eyes and opened her arms wide, exposing her palms. The woman emanated concentration as she summoned her powers. The air turned a little crisper, as if the magic zapped at some of the heavy moisture dribbling around down here. The gears whirred around the dog’s joints, and the little creature gave two stomps of its front feet. The green eyes glowed and the nose tick-tick-ticked with the primary mechanism of the creation.
The dog’s head lowered to the ground, the motions jerky. Theo pushed out with her hands, and her eyes snapped open. Theo’s magic tensed the air between them as the mechanical hound began to move forward past the steps. The nose trailed to the ground, and the creature shuffled forward one small step at a time. Like Ellie anticipated, the clicks and whirrs along with the tip-tip-tip of the metal feet against stone echoed through the chamber along with all the other sounds.
The mechanical hound turned to the right past the steps and trotted in that direction.
“I guess we’ll be taking left then,” Ellie murmured. The time had arrived.
“Stay safe,” Theo reminded her, voice as firm as always. Her dark eyes flashed in concern, and Ellie didn’t miss the look between Bernard and her sister. In the span of an hour, the two had become close conspirators in regard to her safety.
Unfortunately for the both of them, Ellie followed the whims of fortune and chance.
“Get Mother out of there,” Ellie responded. She didn’t need to wish Theo safety, because unlike Ellie, her sister took precautions. Bernard brushed his fingers along her shoulder as he strode past her toward the left passage. The brief touch offered a grounding she didn’t want to think about too keenly, lest she get more attached to this impossible man.
Ellie cast one last look at Silas and Theo as they followed the clicks and whirrs of the mechanical hound, one of their hangman’s orbs bobbing along with them. Her sister’s slender form matched Silas’ in height, and the pair of them strode close together. They traveled through the tunnel at a steady pace, one she wouldn’t be able to observe if she
wanted any advantage.
“Step lightly,” she offered to Bernard as she whipped around and in a few deft strides caught up to him. “Heard there’s a serial killer on the loose.”
Bernard shook his head, though she caught the crinkle in his eyes and the rueful grin that appeared. “I see you’ve been indulging in tall tales again. Nothing but the rats down here.”
Ellie didn’t have to force her own grin in return. No matter the nerves percolating to a rising thrum inside her, levity carried her through the worst of times, and she wouldn’t abandon it today. “A poor man’s feast, they are.”
Bernard’s upper lip curled while they continued to stride forward through the tunnel. The water came up to her ankles, sloshing around her boots. In this light, the liquid appeared dark, milky and utterly foul, but this wasn’t her first jaunt through the sewers and wouldn’t be her last. A rat scurried past, as big as the mechanical hound, those eyes glinting as they caught the light of her hangman’s orb. Unless there was a swarm of the beasts, most didn’t pay her any mind and she preferred it that way.
Down here, the air grew thicker than Mother’s porridge. The moisture glued Ellie’s shirt and trousers to her skin. Minutes passed, or hours. She never could tell around here, this dank, tomblike place where no light shone. The crawling feeling down her spine didn’t need to be the result of any serial killer lurking in the corners of these sewers—it had existed the moment she’d entered the clammy, rough-hewn tunnels.
Bernard kept his pistol half-lifted as they strode forward, one silent step at a time. If anything proved this man was her equal, the way he navigated down here with nary a sound did. Far too often, those new to the sewers splashed around the tunnels, unaware of just how much every sound echoed.
The casual chatter lapsed as they prowled forward, both homing in on every cross-section of the tunnels or the dips in the walls—anywhere the Butcher might be hiding away, waiting to emerge.
As they strode forward, Ellie couldn’t help but draw in the details of the man beside her. She tried to commit to memory the strong jaw even his black beard couldn’t obscure, and the thick hair she’d run her fingers through countless times the previous night. Those strong arms had hefted her around like she weighed nothing, and she’d clutched his sturdy frame. No matter what happened tonight, she would never forget this brilliant, attentive man who was willing not only to stand with her in the darkness but take action.
Of Coppers and Cracksmen Page 10
